“Come. Follow me …”

I walk in the shade of trees, whose ancient forms haunt the dark and stalk the shadows of my mind. Their stunted trunks loom around me, unchanging and rooted in the past, with heavy boughs gnarled by age and still as the grave. Their fingers tangle and slowly choke the breath from the forest, catching the winds and their voices like a dream catcher snares a nightmare.

It is so very still here—nothing moves or makes a sound—and it is cold … s-so unearthly cold out here, but I am not alone; she is walking up ahead with me.

I can see her outline against the trees and the small white cloud emanating from her breath. A simple bouquet of flowers, hoof-picked before sunset in the back of her parents' garden, drifts gently in the air beside her. In a saddlebag strapped across her back rests a small white porcelain urn, tenderly wrapped in thick clothes to keep it safe on this, its final journey. She bought it with her own allowance from the old pony on the corner of Ergot and Chestnut Lane; saved up for weeks to have it made and inscribed just right. It had to be just right.

Inscribed upon the urn a memory reads: Daffodil, Herein Dreaming.

She stops briefly. I watch her shadow outlined between two looming trees, and I can't help but feel a knot in my heart at the sight of her. I stop and watch her lower her head to the ground. The bouquet droops slightly. Then she wraps her little scarf one more time around her neck and continues with slow hoofsteps through the soft autumn leaves that cover the forest floor.

I remember her fifth birthday, the day she unwrapped the brand new scarf. It is brown with flower motifs; she always loved flowers. I remember the gleam of tears in her eyes as she wrapped the gift around herself. Daffodil was there, smiling brightly; I see her in my memory still, so full of life and dreams. I remember the hug we shared.

A cloud drifts from the face of the silvery moon. The eye of the Mare seems to follow us from on high as she stops, standing where an old tree leans over the narrow path. It isn't really a path, but she made it one; her own path, for no other pony comes here anymore. Under that leaning old tree, a little clearing has been made. A stone stands in its shade.

In silence I watch her stand there, looking at the stone. Under cold and distant stars she lifts the bouquet and lets it drop on the ground in front of the grave. I watch her pick the urn out and set it down next to the stone with a care approaching reverence. Then she straightens up, head high and fierce, like a soldier before her sovereign. In the distance the rain is coming, soon it will be raining hard, but here the sky is clear. She glances up at the blinking stars before taking a long, low breath.

I hear her young voice rise among the trees, growing strong.

“Upon this very hour, by the ash and bone in the place of the deed, by the witness of the pale-faced moon and Her dark eternal grace I do swear, and forswear the name by which I was born! Rise up, rise up and claim me, for I shall be your vengeance and vessel, and through me you shall be allowed to see her fall! Nemesis be my name, Nemesis am I!”

A shiver runs through the forest as she speaks, like the sigh of a thousand dead. She raises her head high, and all the shadows of the forest breathe through her as an ancient star shines upon the tip of her horn. The urn glows with an inner light so white and pure, like the fire of a thousand suns burning in its porcelain heart. I lift a hoof to shield my eyes and see her eyes as she turns towards me, empty black buttons in a linen face, and I see the stitches running across that face.

I gaze into the black, bottomless eyes crowned by the fire of the heavens, and whisper,

“… dream on through me …”

“Sweetie? Hey Sweetie Belle …”

Fleeting memories of the dream fade into oblivion. I groan and blink awake to a sea of faded yellows, oranges and reds drifting by far below. Peeling my face off the window, I surreptitiously attempt to wipe the drool off both glass and chin as I stretch my hooves.

The train rounds the mountainside and snakes its way forward along the steep cliffs far above the great forest. Behind it the sun is rising, painting the sky in matching colors. Up ahead I begin to make out the great blue sea and the beautiful city of Baltimare which sits on the Horseshoe Bay.

What a beautiful view to wake up to. It should make my heart leap with joy at a new day awaiting. I should greet my friends with a smile and a song. For some reason I am not in the mood for smiles, and no songs come to mind. I just want to go back to sleep instead. I turn to Scootaloo. She's smiling at me. I shove her off her seat.

“Ow!” she cries as she lands on her tail on the floor between seats. Featherweight and Sunny Days look up at us from the other side of the car. Most of our classmates are still asleep. “What was that for?” Scootaloo asks, her feelings hurt more than her haunches.

Dumb pegasus still can't even fly, I think. A little voice inside me says that's really awful and I feel a little sorry for thinking it. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom are my very best friends, and I kinda think Scootaloo is really pretty, and really cool too even though she can’t fly, but sometimes we still fight, and I'm just really tired of her right now. I'm just tired right now.

“For waking me up,” I say and look across to the opposite seat where Apple Bloom is still sleeping with my new doll held tight in her hooves. She's breathing calmly and looking happy. I let her borrow my doll because she forgot her own back in Ponyville, and she always has trouble sleeping when she's away from the farm. I really envy her right now.

I lean against the window and get lost in the black button eyes. Her name is Stitch, and she's my favorite doll. My sister Rarity got her for me as a gift a week ago. Stitch is a funny little horse, she doesn't look like anything my sister would ever buy, but Rarity says she's kitsch, I think. It rhymes with Stitch. I like rhymes a lot.

Scootaloo has pulled herself back on her seat and doesn't seem ready to leave me be. “Well gee, I'm sorry,” she says without a hint of being sorry at all. “You know, you really should be thanking me, 'cause if Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon heard you snoring like that, they'd never leave you alone.”

“I don't snore!” I protest, feeling my cheeks flush as I look around and give her a glare. It's not very refined to snore. Proper mares like my big sister don't snore, and I'm going to be a proper, refined mare just like her! “I don't,” I repeat just to put that straight.

“Sure you don't,” Scootaloo teases with a playful wink, making an impression of a snore that I am quite sure is totally exaggerated. Because I don't snore, and certainly not like that! “But you might want to check your flank. I bet you got a snoring cutie mark for that performance!”

I crank my glare up to withering. “I hope you turn into a big ugly toad, Scootaloo!”

“Yeah? Why don't you try it then?” she says and jumps up on the seat, poking my horn with her hoof. “Just try it, Miss Magic Pants. I bet you anything you can't!”

I'm just about ready to do it. I swear I could, too! I've seen Twilight turn all sorts of things into other things, like that adorable little croaking orange I saw down by the lake near our house that one time. I bet it's not very difficult at all.

Just then a plum-colored hoof clamps down on Scootaloo's back and interrupts my thoughts of toads and sweet poetic justice. Scootaloo looks up at Cheerilee and shrinks back down into her seat.

“This is the last time I tell you not to jump in the seats, Scootaloo,” Cheerilee says sternly, her hoof like a grip of iron on my friend's shoulder. She gives me a look as well. “And I don't want to see you girls fighting, is that clear? You have a whole week together, so be nice.”

“Yes, Miss Cheerilee. I'm sorry, Miss Cheerilee,” Scootaloo says and looks down at her hooves.

“Sorry, Miss Cheerilee,” I echo.

Cheerilee gives us both a long hard look before letting go of Scootaloo. “The train arrives in an hour, girls.” She turns around and trots back to her seat a little further back in the train.

I return to gazing out the window. I can feel Scootaloo looking at me while pretending as if she's not. I sigh and look at her. “I'm sorry. I don't want to actually turn you into a toad or anything. I'm sorry I shoved you, too.”

Scootaloo grudgingly looks up. “I'm sorry too. You don't snore half as bad.” She looks at me for a few seconds before asking, “Are you alright?”

I lean back in my seat and look at Stitch and her black button eyes. Vague images of a forest, and some filly with scars and stitches flash through my memory. “I think I had a nightmare,” I mutter.

“Was it bad?” Scootaloo looks genuinely concerned. I know she's had trouble with nightmares before. She doesn't want to voice it, but I can see the question in her eyes, “Do you need a hug?”

I turn around on my seat and accept her hug. It makes me feel a little better, and I don't have to look at those empty eyes. “No … just kinda weird, you know?” I say and sit back down, patting our seat with a hoof. “I'm just tired, and I miss my big soft bed back home. Don't you miss your bed?”

“Eh,” Scootaloo shrugs and turns around, kicking at the opposite seat. Apple Bloom sleeps on happily and completely undisturbed. “I don't know how you two can sleep at all. Trains drive me crazy, sitting still for hours in a big box. I can't wait until we get to Dappleshore.”

I glance back out the window at the city of Baltimare in the distance. A brief stop there, then a boat trip across the bay to Dappleshore, which is a small town at the edge of the great southern swamps. It's a shame we don't get more time in Baltimare, but we do get a whole week in Dappleshore, which is cool. Most of the trip has been paid for by Diamond Tiara's dad. He donates money to the school every year, and some of it goes to making sure we get trips like this. ”My sister says it's a 'really old and creaky village full of quaint little ponies',” I say and turn in my seat so that I have my back to the window and am facing Scootaloo. “But I don't think she meant that in a very nice way.”

“Yeah, no offense, but your sister is really dumb sometimes. Dappleshore sounds way cool if you ask me. I bet we can find lots of adventure there!” Scootaloo forgets her boredom quickly now that she has me to talk to. “And mysteries! Maybe we'll discover a dark secret and get our cutie marks for investigating it? We could be, like, detectives or something!”

“Cutie Mark Crusader Clue Collectors?” I turn the prospect over in my head and decide that I like the look of it. I like it a lot! “Ooh, ooh, and Stitch and I could make us some real detective hats and all. Real fashionable.” I'm starting to feel better as we talk. Maybe it was the hug, I even feel a little warmer. I hadn't realized I was cold before.

“That's an awesome idea, Sweetie Belle!” the excitable pegasus says and nearly jumps in her seat with joy. A loud cough from the back of the car makes her sit down quickly and grin sheepishly. “Heh, we're sure to get our cutie marks for that. I was so much born to be a real hard-boiled detective pony!”

The train pulls up at the station and everypony files out in a long line past Cheerilee. “… Snips, Diamond Tiara, Silver Spoon, Featherweight, Sweetie Belle, …” I hear her mutter as she ticks us all off on her list to make sure no pony is lost or left behind. I step out onto the platform and stop to wait.

Apple Bloom comes out behind me, holding my doll. “Thanks for lettin' me borrow your doll, Sweetie Belle,” she says, holding back a yawn as she hoofs me the funny little horse with the black button eyes. “I wouldn't have gotten any sleep without it.”

I take the doll and hug her, the dream now feeling like a distant memory. I give Apple Bloom a bright smile. “Rarity always says friends must share. You can borrow her any time, if you like.”

Scootaloo comes out last, looking glum. Cheerilee had her go to the back of the line because she tried to get out before everypony else. I can't help but hide a chuckle. It's her own fault, but it’s just how Scootaloo is. She quickly brightens up as she gets out and joins us on the platform. “Hey girls!” she grins, all sour apples forgotten. “Who's ready for some crusading!”

Apple Bloom takes a look around. “I don't think we get to do much crusadin' here.”

“That's right, Apple Bloom.” Cheerilee stops next to Scootaloo and ruffles her already quite ruffled mane. Cheerilee gives us all a bright sunny smile. “We only have about an hour here before the ship sails, so we need to stay together. Now, I want you all to follow me,” she continues a little louder so that everypony can hear her. “We will eat the breakfast you all packed down by the docks while we wait for the ship. Everypony got everything?” Everypony nod their heads and trot off with Cheerilee in the back.

I walk a little behind my two friends as we head out of the train station and down the street towards the docks. It's a new place and there are so many shops and things to look at. Oh I just wish we could stop and spend more time here!

I pause for a moment, forehooves against the window of a small boutique selling horseshoes. There are so many. I really like how they shine and glitter. I just bet my sister would love a pair like the silver ones here, they look like they were made for her! Aw, but they cost more than my allowance for a whole year. It's just not fair!

I feel a little poke and look up glumly at Cheerilee smiling back at me. “Come on, Sweetie Belle, don't fall behind.” With a longing glance back at the window, I follow.

The sun shines and the sky is a perfect blue, yet I am really happy that I packed several extra scarves like my sister always tells me a proper pony should do. It's so cold and windy out here by the sea, but it's also really beautiful from where we sit on a large pier. We are not far from the ship that will take us across the bay to Dappleshore in about half an hour. Many smaller ships are already out riding on the bay, and the harbor is full of life as ponies greet the day. I watch them all as they mill about.

“Hey, what have you two got?”

I look up at Scootaloo and remember that we're having breakfast. I feel a bit sheepish and quickly duck into my saddlebag, rummaging around for the food that my sister insisted upon preparing for me. She's the best sister a pony could ever have, even if I wish she would let me cook more often.

“I've got … some fresh carrot bread from Miss Golden Harvest our neighbor, and some apple jam, apple pie, apple cider, and three muffins from Sugarcube Corner.” Apple Bloom rattles off the contents of her tightly packaged lunch box. It's like her lunch box was made to feed two or maybe three ponies.

“Yum!” Scootaloo says and licks her chops, like a wolf thinking of chickens. “What did you get, Sweetie?”

“Um,” I say with my mouth full of paper and string as I try to get the wrapping off my package. It's like Rarity never expected it to be opened ever again. “Paper?” I joke and finally get the string off. “Or toast.”

“Is it … liquid?” Apple Bloom leans over and stretches her neck to look.

“Ha ha, you're both so funny today, you should get a cutie mark for comedy except we already tried that.” I continue unpacking. “Butter, cheese, croissants, and, um, tea and an apple.” All of it so neatly packaged it almost looks like it's meant to be seen but not eaten, maybe displayed at an art gallery. I send my sister a thankful thought.

“Whoa,” Scootaloo says, leaning over Apple Bloom's head to look. “You girls get the best food.”

“You can each have one of these here muffins,” Apple Bloom offers. “And I don't think I can eat all this pie myself either.”

I pick up a croissant and offer it to Scootaloo. “Don't you have your own food?”

Scootaloo gathers up all the food like some kind of squirrel gathering for winter. “Oh, yeah,” she grins sheepishly. A sheepish squirrel in wolf clothes hoarding baked goods for winter. “But my mom had to work late yesterday, so my dad did the food, and you know my dad and cooking.”

We all wince. Scootaloo gobbles down the croissant and grins, speaking with her mouth full. “Hey, he tries, and he's the coolest dad ever, just … not at cooking, okay?”

We all have a good laugh.

I am packing the rest of my breakfast back into my saddlebag and preparing to board the ship when I spot it. I stop and turn to look closer at a young unicorn colt, a little older than myself, pulling a small cart down the street. The cart is laden with brushes, a box and other tools. I can't be seeing it, it must be my imagination, but there it is, wrapped around his neck.

“Don't run anywhere now, Sweetie Belle,” Cheerilee calls as I start to trot off towards the colt.

I stop and bite my lip as I think of what to do. Maybe I can draw his attention. I jump up and wave my front hooves in the air. “Ooo, ooo! Mister! Over here, Mister!” I call out, waving wildly. He turns his head to look, then he smiles, slowly maneuvers his cart around, and trots down the pier towards me.

“Why, a pleasant morning to you,” he says to me with a bright but sleepy smile. He's got a sort of golden-sandy coat and a dark reddish brown mane and tail. He looks kinda poor, but also kinda nice. “Need your shoes shined? Only two bits.”

I blush a little and glance back at the ship briefly. “I can't really stay—”

He follows my gaze and interrupts my thought. “Ah, a quickie then? Just one bit, won't take a minute,” he offers, already pulling out a box, rag and brush, setting down the box on the ground as he looks at me with a hopeful smile.

I look down at my hooves, then back up. Something about those sleepy eyes and bright smile, I just can't say no. “Oh, um, okay.” I lift one hoof up on the box and watch as he gets to work, brushing and polishing with swift skill. I've never had my shoes and hooves shined like this, only at the spa or by myself. I try to ignore my friends looking, and Silver Spoon snickering.

As I set my hoof back down and lift the other one up, I look again at his scarf. “Um, that scarf you're wearing?” It's brown with flower motifs. I can't believe my eyes, but there it is, the scarf from my dream, the scarf that belonged to the filly with the scars and the button eyes.

He lifts a hoof to his neck without losing a beat on his work with the rag, which he holds steadily in the golden glow of his magic. “Aye, what of it?”

“Where did you get it?”

“Got it from an old mare once, for fixin' her shoes.” He lifts my hoof to clean the sole before setting it back down. “She didn't have any money, but this has kept me well and warm out here on the pier ever since, so I consider it well worth it.”

I turn around and lift my hind leg onto the box while biting my lip in secret. “I really like it. Do you think I could buy it from you?”

“You want to buy my old scarf?” The colt looks a bit confused and pauses briefly in his work. He shakes his head slightly and returns to polishing my shoe. “But then I wouldn't have any scarf myself, and it's pretty windy out here.”

“We could … trade?” I suggest and look back over my shoulder at him, lifting up my last hoof for him to shine. “I have several scarves I could give you in return.”

He lifts a hoof to touch the scarf again, his green eyes distant. “I am a bit fond of this one,” he says quietly and looks down at my hoof. “I'm not sure I could part with it. I'm sorry.”

“Not even for a filly like me?” I look him and smile innocently.

“Aw hay,” he says and flashes me a grin as he finishes cleaning the sole of my last hoof and sets it down. “Sure, why not, but only for you, and only if I get a kiss.”

I look around quickly to see if anypony is looking. The others have either boarded the ship or long since lost interest. Cheerilee is busy with Snips and Snails. I smile and turn around, giving the colt a peck on the cheek. “Deal.”

A light blush shines through his coat. “Now I have a memory to go with your scarf,” he says and unties his old one. “I hope you take good care of this.”

I pick it from his outstretched hoof and feel the fabric. It's a good scarf, a little worn and old, but it was clearly made to last. I smile and search through my saddlebag for one that matches it pretty well. I hold up a thick, gray scarf, as well as a single gold bit for the shine. “Will this do?”

He takes them and rubs the scarf with a hoof, then nods and wraps it around himself. “Aye, this'll do.”

“Great! And thanks for the shine,” I say and wave a newly shined hoof. I turn around and see Cheerilee waving at me. “I have to gallop,” I say and run.

“What's your name?” he calls.

“Sweetie Belle!”

“Mellow Trots,” I hear him say as I hurry off. I turn my head and smile at him as I run up the steps to the ship.

Apple Bloom lets out a long burp as I step on board the ship. “Pardon,” she says and punctuates it with a smaller one. It was a good breakfast. You can always tell by the loudness of Apple Bloom afterwards, and this one was about a seven.

I smile and trot to the front of the ship where I can watch as it slowly leaves the harbor and sets sail for open water. Far across the bay but still out of sight lies Dappleshore, waiting for us. I hold Stitch close and wrap the scarf a little tighter around me as I stare ahead.